


A Million Lifetimes... More Like Over 9000!

by SuperSaiyanMagenta



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Addiction, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Gambling, Graphic Description, Heavy Drinking, Human Trafficking, In-The-Moment Dissociation, Physical & Emotional Numbing, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Slavery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28466745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSaiyanMagenta/pseuds/SuperSaiyanMagenta
Summary: Above the celestials that serve the gods, and even above the Omni King, are the Omni Celestials. Mothers of celestials and creators of the omniverse. These beings possess power beyond imagining, and are responsible for appointing the Omni King. as they are responsible for all life they wield ultimate control over time and space. If the Omni King begins to behave with malice and starts to destroy his universes they have the power to remove him and restore order to the omniverse. Every few million years they like to interfere with the life of a mortal and a god, to intertwine their fates. After 999,999 years they have chosen a god to be involved in their scheme, one that came reluctantly into his position and lost much with his choice, more than he knew.This fanfic is based off of the video Vegeta & Bulma's FINAL Moments, I suggest you watch that video, or Prince Vegeta's Vegeta Reacts To Vegeta & Bulma's FINAL Moments, to fully understand what is happening in this story.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue: Destruction and Despair.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Dragon Ball universe. That privilege belongs to Akira Toriyama.
> 
> Disclaimer 2: I do not own the videos this story was inspired by those privileges belong to Rising Fist and Prince Vegeta
> 
> AN: I am using Japanese as the Celestial language and Zulu as Saiyan. Full definitions will be at the end.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story I thought of it while I was cooking last night. I had spent about two days getting caught up on the last year's worth of Prince Vegeta videos on Youtube and I came across the one Vegeta Reacts To Vegeta & Bulma's FINAL Moments. It has inspired this story. I don't comment on his videos often and I have a rather inactive youtube profile but I was super excited to be one of the subscribers that got him to one million. Seriously, less than twenty-four hours before he posted his video about hitting 1 mill I had finally hit the subscribe button, then I woke up to his video. The dude makes me bust my gut when he has them google themselves.

Vegeta Yon-sei, Last Prince of the Sayains, God of Destruction of the Seventh Universe.

He’d heard the title an infinite number of times by now. 

It bored him, to death! He hated it, this life, this title, the fear that came with it all. No one ever would have guessed that the former planet destroyer would despise the position he now held. After all, he had, for nearly half of his mortal life, coveted everything he saw around him.

The planet Beerus used to live, the one Vegeta now inhabited, was a morphagraphical planet. The instant the Saiyan Prince had taken over the position of God of Destruction, to save his wife, son, and universe, this planet had transformed into an exact replica of Vegeta, in miniature. He would’ve preferred Earth but... 

_“That isn’t the way things woooOOOooork…”_

Or at least that was what Whis always told him when he complained, and he complained a lot in the beginning. His new home was dark, it smelled, his bed was cold, his house empty and silent, the planet was too quiet, too uninhabited. All his complaints were simply the Saiyan's way of saying he was lonely and missed his family… his Bulma.

Then after his wife died, the Omni King declared she would not be allowed to be reborn, and Vegeta withdrew from all the pleasures of life. Initially, he had gone on a rampage throughout the seventh universe. Destroying every evil race he could find, bringing about an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity. It was during this time when his daughter, Bra, the last piece he had left of Bulma, passed away, sending the former Prince down a spiral of despair, out of which nothing in existence seemed to pull him from.

Even his job as a destroyer was boring. Vegeta could see why Beerus had taken to traveling for food and tasty treats, but for him, food had lost its flavor. The light that had pulled him from the darkness of his first life had been snuffed out, and he would not get to see it again until he found a replacement to take his place as God of Destruction. Something that could take him one-hundred million years or more, much, much more.

“Is everything alright my lord?” Whis asked, pulling Vegeta from his thoughts.

“Peachy,” Vegeta growled sarcastically, letting his eyes focus on his surroundings while the universe whipped by as they traveled back to his planet.

“Is there anything in particular on your mind, my lord? You have been unusually quiet on this trip.” Whis pointed out, although he wasn’t expecting Vegeta to open up to him, the two had grown to converse on occasion. A return journey after an act of destruction, like now, was typically one of those occasions where Vegeta had something to say.

Vegeta didn’t respond, how could he? It was Bulma’s birthday, after all. A day he loved and loathed all at once. The fact that he had gone to her party on that fateful day had made her exceedingly happy, but then Beerus and Whis had arrived to set in motion the events that landed him in his current position. Nothing he could say would do anything to heal the wounds in his soul. Remaining silent, Vegeta closed his eyes, and let his third mortal life play out like a movie reel through his mind.

Whis sighed, it was the same each year on this day. Usually, they were not traveling and Vegeta would simply spend the day locked away in his room. Ever since Bulma had passed, Vegeta had changed. That human female had made the great warrior softer, in a way that made him enjoy life and seek adventure. Whis was beginning to feel like he had traded one tired god of destruction for another, not one still wet behind the ears, which Vegeta was. He needed something to liven things up, or Grand Zeno may come sniffing around, and destroy the universe for it being boring. 

Landing on the new planet Vegeta, Whis stood on the balcony, contemplating how to pull Vegeta from this funk that had lasted nearly a million years. The Destroyer God walked past him into the grand hall of his palace. 

“Whis, I am going to rest, wake me in a hundred years,” Vegeta grumbled as he walked in the direction of his empty royal bed-chamber.

“Yes my lord,” Whis sighed. 

Vegeta stopped just inside his room and looked around the space with disgust. He hated this place. Screaming a battle cry, Vegeta took out his anger, hatred, and loneliness on the contents of the room. The Saiyan transformed and began obliterating furniture, smashing windows, tearing down curtains, and finally tore off the ridiculous collar he wore and threw it out a window to watch it disappear into the distance while he heaved in giant breaths of air. Slumping down onto the bed Vegeta cried a few tears into his hands, it didn’t matter what he did, what he destroyed, or even if he threw a tantrum like he was now, nothing would fill the void within him, he would spend eternity alone. 

Eventually, Vegeta curled into a ball and fell asleep. The one good thing about being a god was that he was never plagued by another nightmare, but just as he would’ve preferred Earth as his home, he would’ve preferred Bulma to keep his nightmares away. Now when Vegeta slept, he slept on a sea of stardust, the stardust he had created as a destroyer.

Floating on that sea of dust and light the god suddenly felt himself stop and a hard ground rise up beneath him. Something wasn’t right, Vegeta could feel wind on his face, and he furrowed his brows, he shouldn’t be able to feel anything in this state. Then a voice came, it sounded like multiple people talking at once.

_God of Destruction…_

It called out to him and he could make out at least three distinct voices that blended into and through each other. 

_Prince of Saiyans…_

The voice teased his senses, he swore he recognized it but couldn’t place the unearthly voice.

_Vegeta…_

Hearing it speak his name sent shivers raking throughout his entire being, right before his eyes opened. Vegeta found himself staring up into an azure sky with lavender clouds. Sitting up he looked around himself; he was sitting in a field surrounded by dense forests on three sides, a river rushing by the bottom of the hill on the final side, and an enormous silver moon hung in the sky. Taking a moment to appreciate this new world. The grass he sat in was brilliant violet, the earth below it a red as blood, the trees had bark as black as his hair, with leaves in vibrant cerulean, the river running at the bottom of the hill was filled with indigo hued water, and in the air floated tiny white lights.

Watching the lights as they flitted past him he tipped his head in curiosity. The lights were massing together, forming something in the moonlight. A halo in an all too feminine shape began to form made up of the lights while abyssal darkness danced like flames around the thin outline. Inside swirled galaxies and nebulas of varying colors. Vegeta blinked several times in an attempt to focus, but the constant wavering of the form made it impossible.

_Rise Lord..._ the voice came from the ethereal figure and Vegeta did as instructed, climbing to his feet.

“Wh-who are you?” he asked the cloud of light and shadows. 

_You have been a just, and benevolent god... Your protection of your universe has earned you the admiration of the Omni Celestials, and we have a gift for you…_

Vegeta fell onto his knees and placed his forehead on the ground between his palms pressed flat to the grass. “Forgive my rudeness g-” he hesitated for a fraction of a second, he had not spoken this word since his last night with Bulma. Allowing the feelings attached to the word he spoke it, “goddess. I did not know to whom I spoke. Please be merciful, Oh divine being.”

The being giggled a sound of tiny chimes ringing through every molecule. 

_Rise, you adorable prince... Rise and receive your blessing..._

Vegeta got swiftly to his feet and stood at attention to await this supposed blessing it spoke of. Why would they do anything for him? He was a rather lazy god of destruction, only stepping in when the Grand Kia asked him to. He had no agenda other than riding out this existence until he could finally die and be with his family again.

_Somewhere across your universe, the soul you yearn for will be reborn..._

“W-what? But I thought that-”

_The Omni King is not omnipotent, Prince, he has been behaving foolishly since your old comrade Goku, or as you knew him Kakarot, shamelessly insulted his pride on more than one occasion... It was because of his actions that your fate was sealed... While your wife and son had a hand in the cause and effect, it was Goku’s lust for the fight that drove him to alter the natural progression of time... We have decided that the Omni King was too harsh in his decision to destroy your wife’s soul..._

“He what!?” Vegeta hissed a fire burning in his black depths. Grand Zeno had only said he wouldn’t permit her to be reborn, not that he was going to erase her soul.

_We have taken the pieces and reconstructed that life force, and placed it in an unborn child... If you can find that which you seek we will undo some of the wrath of the Omni King, and return the omniverse to its proper order...._

“Some Omni King he has been,” the destroyer grumbled. It was Grand Zeno’s job to maintain order in the omniverse, not destroy half of it because he threw a tantrum. 

_We do seek a replacement for him…_

Vegeta froze, he did not want to be anything more than he currently was. Even this existence was too much, he yearned for simpler times. Again the sound of chimes surrounded him.

“What will happen if I fail?” The Saiyan asked nervously, in his desperation to change the subject. One never knew when a celestial was reading your thoughts.

_Always so concerned with failure… We trust you will not doubt yourself too much, Destroyer..._

Vegeta gulped, the being sounded annoyed, the voice sounding more like a typhoon than the ethereal being he had been interacting with thus far. He suddenly feared this divine energy, fear was good, it would fuel his drive.

_As a final test of your devotion to this soul... We will give you little more than two decades to find the one you seek, or their life will be altered in a way that you will not be able to undo... If this happens, and you are too late, Prince, you will have to wait until it is reborn again in another life in another universe and your search will resume on the larger playing field that is the omniverse…_

_You must locate this being before the light of dawn reaches their eyes on the first day of their twentieth year…_

_Arise now Destroyer, and search the farthest reaches..._

_Shaiwase,_ _Vegeta… or should we call you...Konjō..._

Vegeta felt like he had been punched in the gut, his body was heavy as the ethereal plain faded into black then blink out of existence until he was floating in an infinite nothingness. That name he had only heard it once before, _‘Bulma…’_ he thought and her voice whispered across his senses.

_...Konjō, Umyeni… ...Vegeta, honey, wake up…_

Vegeta sat straight up in his bed. Blinking his eyes until the walls around him changed back into the dark walls of his castle. When he had first opened them, he was in his old home, the Capsule Corp mansion in the room he had shared with Bulma. It took him a moment to remember where, and who, he now was. Groaning into his hands Vegeta was startled out of his memories when the curtains rustled.

“Oh, you’re awake, my Lord,” said Whis from the doorway.

“What the hell are you doing in here Whis? I thought I told you to-'' Vegeta jumped out of bed and went to the window to look at the towering trees outside. “Has it been 100 years already?” he asked nervously. _‘What if I missed my opportunity and I now have two decades to search twelve blasted universes?’_

“Yes, Lord Vegeta, right on the dot. I trust you slept well,” Whis commented as he walked over to open the curtains to let in more light and stand by Vegeta’s side.

“Whis,” Vegeta said, still staring into the distance.

“Yes, my Lord?” Whis asked, something seemed different about Vegeta, there was a spark of life inside him again, something Whis had not seen since Vegeta was his pupil.

“Bring Hit to me,” Vegeta growled and turned away from the view.

“Hit? My Lord?” the celestial wasn’t sure what Vegeta could possibly want with that deceitful bounty hunter.

“Are you questioning my order, Whis?” Vegeta asked with a deadly sneer.

“N-no, my lord,” Whis bowed in deference. “Forgive me, I was merely surprised you would ask for him.” Shocked beyond belief to be more accurate. “I will retrieve him right away.” Whis tapped his staff against the ground twice then disappeared from sight.

“Tch,” Vegeta scoffed as Whis disappeared, looking back out to the view he searched the stars for a sign. “I’ll find you, wait for me, I am coming...” not willing to say the name allowed he thought it, sending it out to the one that it belonged to, _‘Kakumei… Umfazi… Engishade naye, ongunaphakade…’_


	2. Chapter 1: (Not) An Oasis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer 1: I do not own anything from the Dragon Ball universe. That privilege belongs to Akira Toriyama.  
> Disclaimer 2: I do not own the videos this story was inspired by those privileges belong to Rising Fist and Prince Vegeta.
> 
> Well, I am finally finished with this chapter, or at least I am satisfied with it. I had to update and add some tags with this chapter post, so please be sure to check them out and read with caution.

Lost somewhere in the outer rim of the universe, on a yellow and tan, dusty, desert planet Alblossca. A place where two suns rose in tandem, hours apart, making the days long and hot, where no moon graced the brief night sky. With a landscape of large rolling dunes, that shifted in harsh winds that swept around the planet--often burying entire settlements overnight--and dry canyons were carved by those winds and ever-shifting sands. There lay one major city atop a plateau with high walls to keep the sea of sands at bay. 

Near the edge of the city, close to the walls, and just off the main thoroughfare used by traders, merchants, and ranchers alike was a larger hodge-podge structure. It was a tavern and gambling hall, connected to a garage and three storage units to make up the first floor. In the center and sticking up three more stories was a house that had a few random rooms slapped onto the outside of its walls on the upper two levels. In the highest make-shift room, a young woman of seventeen lay sleeping in her small bed. 

Images raced through her head; black flames of shimmering strands, billowing red silken fabric, eyes that shone like the darkest metal, and a devilish smirk. Those smirking lips whispered to her; words she couldn’t understand. Yet they were also words that needed no translation, for the longing and loneliness in them was palpable, causing her heart to seize painfully. One phrase pierced the haze of her sleep-muddled mind making her sit up and bring her hands to cover the cry she wanted to let out. 

_ … Kakumei… Umfazi… Engishade naye, ongunaphakade… _

Breathing heavily she let the words whisper across her mind again, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down her spine. It wasn’t the first time she had seen those images and heard the unintelligible words in her sleep, but it was the first time the words in her mother’s language had flitted across her senses. Who was this mysterious dream ghost that called her wife and mate? Why did she recognize the first word? It didn’t belong to any language she knew, yet she still felt she recognized it somehow, from somewhere. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed she stood and stretched, enjoying the popping sounds of her spine re-aligning after her fitful sleep. 

Her room was a small space not deep enough to fit her bed the opposite way if she wished it, barely enough space to fit a second bed beside the one she had. There was a mirror, and one small table under on the wall near the foot of her bed. The wall where the door sat was made of clay fashioned from the same yellow dust that made up this planet. The outer walls were pieces of roughly welded metal with a tiny barred window in it at the center of her pallet. Once a small balcony, it had been transformed into an extra room. Which made it the smallest room in the whole establishment for the single fact that she was not yet of age to service customers.

_ ‘What was that word?’  _ She asked herself trying to grasp at it, but the word slipped through her fingers like the sand in the dunes, only leaving her with pieces. ‘ _ Kekumi? Kaku- Kakume? Kukami? No! Why can’t I remember it?’  _

Whining in annoyance she stomped over to her mirror and looked at herself this morning. Her violet hair hung long down her back in a braid but it was messy and frizzy around her heart-shaped head. She was dressed only in black short-shorts and a black sports bra. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she met her own gaze and stared into her azure eyes, a rare color for her kind. Her pouty lips frowned deeper as she looked at her own reflection and wrinkled her small bulb nose.

“What are you doing with your life? Pining over a man that has only ever appeared in your dreams?” she asked herself. “You do not need any man to save you from this place, you’ll find a way to get free on your own.”

“Kolirabi!” came a booming voice from the hallway. “Bee you better be awake, you useless girl! We have customers waiting and there are backorders to complete.” 

“Y-yes, Master!” Bee replied, jumping back towards her bed to be as far away from the man that stood on the other side of her door, as she could be. “I’m almost dressed. I'll be down in a few seconds.” She lied in a sickly sweet and timid voice to get him away from her. It was when her fire shone that he tried to dominate her. Repressing her feisty nature was slowly killing her.

“I don’t pay you to sleep all day!” he shouted from outside the door as he marched back down the hall.

“You don’t pay me at all,” Bee grumbled under her breath. 

She was a slave, sold to this brothel and garage owner in order to pay off her mother’s debt. Bee’s mother had been enslaved by the ruler of this planet, and had died shortly after, leaving Bee to be sold off at the age of seven. Now she was all alone, orphaned on a planet without trees or rain, things she had never seen but for publications, and what haunted her dreams, just like black flaming hair and shining obsidian eyes. Thinking about it again she shivered and turned it into a shake to get herself out of her own head.

Rushing to get dressed she bound her chest to hide her developing curves and pulled on her tan jumpsuit. Her tail wriggling its way through its hole completely on its own, Bee zipped up the front and tied a cloth around her head to hide her wild hair. Then slipped on her boots and tied them, while her tail wrapped her waist. Finally, she plucked her tool belt from the hook near her door and buckled it around her hips, below her tail, and then exited her room into the noisy house. 

She needed to get to the garage fast before anyone noticed she was out of her room. Bypassing the kitchen, even though she was starving Bee avoided the others. They had never accepted her, she was too powerful, too smart, too strong-willed. All of this made the other slaves either jealous or afraid, usually both. She also avoided them because she knew that the master had plans for her and they were all too similar to the fate of the other slaves. One of them was always pregnant. The children were sold as slaves while the mothers had to keep the tavern patrons satisfied. Bee would rely on the generosity of the customers at the garage to feed her, that was where most of her food had come from over the last ten years. 

Bee considered herself lucky that her race didn’t become physically mature until their twenties. Some ancient genetic security measures to ensure a mature and strong mother to bear a Saiyan warrior. As an extra added measure Bee had decided that if she didn’t eat as much as her body demanded, she wouldn’t grow, and could continue to lie about her age--claiming to be two years younger than she really was--but lately, certain parts of her anatomy were growing regardless of her malnourishment. In any other life, she would’ve thanked her mother for blessing her with such a feminine body, but not this one. She wanted to look like a boy and that was why she had taken to binding her chest while she worked. Also, the jumpsuit wouldn't cover her if she didn’t, and she had been told when it was given to her that when she grew out of it she would be big enough to become a whore. Hopping out the window at the end of the hall she swung from that windowsill to a beam two stories down and about ten feet to the east, then to the lower roof of the parts storage building, before slinking into the garage unseen.

As usual, her master had lied, there was no line of customers waiting. Just the jobs she had lined up to be picked up that day and it was a little under an hour before the first one would be arriving. 

_ ‘Lying pig,’  _ she spat at the packed earthen ground _. ‘At least this way I can work on my own project.’  _ Bee thought wistfully gazing at the device that sat on the low shelf beside her work bench. Grabbing it as she walked by, on her way to her seat, she set it gently on the table and sat down to work. 

All slaves were implanted at the time of their birth, or enslavement, with a device that prevented them from running away. The mechanism was placed at the base of the skull, against the brainstem. If they left a preset proximity radius it would electrify the nervous system rendering the slave immobile until they could be retrieved. If somehow, a slave managed to get far enough away fast enough, like stowing away in a vehicle, the shock would be ten times stronger and fry the slaves’ brains; killing them. More expensive models had tracking capabilities for fast retrieval of the said runaway slave, but overall once someone’s life was sold for a few coins they were treated more like herd animals with brands than humans.

Bee was certain hers was cheap and hoped she was right because she had spent years trying to override it. The young Saiyan female had been working on a device to block the receiver in her implant, and if she were caught she would be tortured, and one of her feet would be cut off. It was the typical punishment for runaway slaves from the brothels. With her recent breakthroughs with an ancient and rare tech, that she had been tasked with repairing, Bee had everything she needed to complete the blocker. 

As, what often happened while she worked diligently on her projects, Bee lost track of time. Before she even knew it an hour had passed. So absorbed by her work she didn’t notice the shadow that darkened the open door, or the tapping of a cane as the owner of that shadow entered the garage.

“You were late again weren’t ya girl?” A raspy voice asked from behind the young mechanic. 

Bee froze at first but turned to face the little old woman as she spoke. “Hey Nan, are you here for your capsule speeder?”

The little woman nodded and sat down on the stool at the counter, resting the handle of her cane over her thigh. She was barely four feet tall, her white hair always pulled back into a bum, pulling the skin on her head to give her amber eyes a more slanted appearance. She had dark tanned skin, Bee didn’t know if it was a natural hue or the result of living on this desert planet her whole life, and she didn’t care either way. The older woman always wore old grey mechanic’s coveralls--with logos from the various manufacturer’s she used to do business for, and shipping companies she used--zipped up to her navel, and a pink shirt underneath. Her canteen was slung over her shoulder and she carried a pack with her today. This woman was Bee’s oldest friend in more than one way and the girl smiled brightly in greeting.

“Is it finished then?” Nan asked, inspecting the device Bee had been so enthralled with. It was normally very hard to sneak up on the young Saiyan.

“Yeah, It’s hard to find the parts for those things in this quadrant, but I think I figured out how they are manufactured. The person that made these was a freakin’ genius, I wish I could’ve met them.” Bee said, handing the small capsule to the old woman. 

“I think they were created on a planet in the Surian quadrant, someplace called Herth, I believe. They are very ancient,” Nan explained while she pulled out a box of food that had taken up more than half her pack, and set it on the counter. “Yet they changed the way things in the entire universe are shipped. So much so, that the tech behind them hasn’t changed in over a thousand years.” Nan added pulling out her metallic chips to pay for the repairs, which she had to insert into the wall-mounted machine after Bee typed in the work order code.

“Nan, you always know so much about foreign tech,” Bee said leaning over the counter and resting her chin on the heel of one hand to listen to Nan ramble on about tech, while her other pulled the box over and opened it to devour the contents. 

“If these fingers still worked I would still be tinkering away with these things myself,” Nan said rubbing her arthritic knuckles. “Most days I miss it, something fierce. That feeling of being useful and accomplishing work most don’t have the patience for.”

“If you could still work then you wouldn’t need me to fix anything for you, and you are my only reprieve from the perverts waiting to take their turn once I’m forced into working the rooms in the tavern,” Bee said bitterly, and straightened up to return to her work.

Nan tutted, “I woulda still been needing an apprentice mind ya, and I would’ve been glad to have one as gifted as you girl.” Nan smiled when Bee peered over her shoulder at the elderly woman before putting her goggles back on to resume her work. It was a shame, the girl had such promise to be more than just a whore. Nan had tried to buy the Bee four years ago but her owner wouldn’t relinquish his rights. The girl was lucky her species didn’t reach maturity until two decades of age, but it drove a wedge between her and the other women she lived with, whose maturity was reached at much younger and less developed ages. So Nan had decided to spend as much time with the girl as she could, to give her someone to confide in, someone that was something like family. “There is a rumor about a god from that place, Herth, supposedly he was a prince in his mortal life and he saved his wife by becoming a god.”

“Another fairy tale Nan, you know those stories aren’t true, gods aren’t mortals.” Bee debated, Nan had two topics she couldn’t shut up about, one was engineering, the other was fairytales.

“That’s not true for some of them, I know Kia’s are born immortals but there are some gods that are chosen to become deities,” Nan informed the young woman, engineering had been her life, deities were her secret obsession. “And there are rumors now, that this god searches the universe for something, or someone.” she then paused and took a sip from her canteen for dramatic effect.

“Is that right?” Bee asked, not really caring, it was more reflex when Nan told these tales to her.

“It is.” she said in all seriousness, “I hear tell he’s checking the outer rim planets and trade ports for someone with mechanical know-how. Maybe he’ll make it here and you might impress him.” Nan smirked at the disgusted look on Bee’s face.

“More fairy tales, Nan.” Bee dismissed the old biddy’s tall tale.

“Hush girl,” Nan said stubbornly. “Your handi-work rivals mine when I was in my prime.”

“Nan, I am not that good, not yet,” Bee said, turning to face the old woman. “And no  _ god _ is going to come and sweep me off my feet. Even I know that much, and there is no point in waiting for that day to come.”

“You still chewing her ear off Nan?” a boy of twelve asked from the garage door. “Mom wanted you to come right back, and here I find you fillin’ Bee’s head with fanciful ideas,” he added winking at Bee as he stepped over the threshold and brushed the dust from the street off his knees. 

“Hope is never a bad thing,” Nan huffed at both youths. “You would do well to remember that,” she added pointing at Bee. “You to Beda,” she flicked her wrist in the boy’s direction.

“Beda did you fall in the street?” Bee asked watching the five and a half foot tall green lizard humanoid swat the dust out of his clothes. 

Glaring at Bee his magenta eyes flashed with embarrassment as his cheeks turned a darker shade of green, “I didn’t fall, Razzor thought it would be funny ta shove me inta a merchant stand.”

“Again!?” Nan exclaimed, “Boy when are you gonna stand up for yourself?” she asked, furious that this kid lacked a backbone.

“Well, normally Bee takes care ‘a it for me,” he said bashfully, his tail swishing nervously behind him while he looked at the young Saiyan female through his lashes.

“You can’t always count on her to be cleaning up your messes.” Nan scolded as she stood from the stool she had been perched on.

“I trust her,” Beda admitted.

“But putting faith in others is futile, the only person I can rely on in this life, is myself,” Bee said coldly

She knew Beda had a crush on her and she had always done everything she could to dissuade him from this infatuation. Bee was a slave, destined to be a whore. Beda was the son of a poor rancher that lived on the outskirts of the city. There could never be anything between them because she would never be able to give him what he deserved; a wife, a family. Hell, she was certain their species weren’t even compatible. 

Beda said nothing at first. He only looked at her back, hurt radiating off of him the longer Bee ignored him. She never turned around, simply shifting this way and that as she tinkered away on yet another project. How he wished he could get even a fraction of that attention shifted to him, then maybe she would see everything he could offer her. After a minute he spoke.

“I’m off, Mom wanted me ta pick up a few things at the Bio office for her. Don’t stay too long Nan, Them bulls are still missin’ and we need all the eyes we can get lookin’ for ’em.” Beda said then slipped back out into the dusty streets.

“That was really harsh Bee,” Nan snapped as soon as the boy was gone.

“Nan,” the Saiyan girl said, putting her instruments down and lifting her goggles up as she turned to look into the wrinkled old face of her friend. “What aspects of my life and my future scream hope for young love?”

“I told you already hope-”

“‘Is never a bad thing’ yeah, I heard you, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is holding on to hope for a fantasy that can never be!” Bee’s voice got louder as her distress over her plight grew, power surged and swirled around her rattling the tables and shelves before she reigned it back in. Sighing heavily she continued, “no  _ god,  _ and no rancher’s son is gonna save me from my fate. I gotta do it for myself, if I can change it, it has to be  _ me _ that does it.”

“Well if you keep being late to the shop you’ll never finish your project, before...” Nan didn’t finish, she hated thinking about what might happen to this strong, vibrant, young woman when that Nash character and his men finally decided to break her in.

“I am late because I sneak down here at night and work in secret,” Bee added with a sympathetic look for her friend that only wanted to see her rise out of this life.

“Don’t make habits or schedules,” Nan said with her hands on her hips.

“I know, I know, that’s how I’ll get caught,” Bee said, walking over to see Nan out. Wrapping her arm around the woman’s shoulders she walked slowly with her to the door. “On the bright side,” she said smiling down at her friend, “even if I do get caught that idiot wouldn’t know what I was working on. He can barely tell the difference between a toaster and an auxiliary combustion equalizer.”

They both stopped and looked at each other before bursting into pearls of laughter. The irony of the owner of an engineering garage not knowing the first thing about technology was not lost on them. Still chuckling, Bee hugged Nan and thanked her for her visit and the food.

Bee spent the rest of her day working on her secret project. Customers came and went, most picking up their finished repairs, a few came in browsing some of the gadgets she had refurbished and now had up for sale. The local butcher came in with the engine for his blade sharpener to be repaired, it was an easy task, and Bee had it finished before the end of her day. She even got a few new accounts for the garage, a warehouse needed some on site maintenance and she had to send them up to the tavern to make an appointment. Because just like with the money chips, slaves were not allowed to make their schedules.

When the sun was low in the sky and the garage door fell into the shadows of the neighboring buildings, Bee locked up from the inside and went into the tavern kitchen through the rear door in the garage. It was busy inside and the cook bustled around barking orders at the other workers. Bee tried to slip through unnoticed so she could sneak a small meal before starting her usual nightly shift as the bus-girl and dishwasher.

“Bee, get into your uniform they need you out there pronto!” the cook barked.

The young Saiyan had just reached the side door that opened to a staircase that led up to the rooms. It was the back way for all the whores to have food delivered to them without it passing through the busy tavern. She sighed and nodded then ran up the stairs as fast as she could to the top floor, and her room.

Stripping out of her coveralls Bee used her tiny washbasin to clean the grease and sweat off her body. Then she took off her shorts and changed into her night uniform, before returning to the main floor.

The air inside the tavern was thick with the smoke from that many pipes and rolls lit around the room. Calls and orders for service were hollered out from the tables as the half-naked women rushed between them taking orders and being groped by the drunken men. More than a few of the men at the tables had whores sat upon their laps already. Those women were dressed in sheer, shimmering gowns, and fancy dresses. The women rushing around were few but they were whores most nights, tonight however they were dressed in server’s attire; similar to french maids. With the higher volume of customers, several of them had to be designated barmaids until the rush died down. This also meant there was no way Bee could avoid working the floor with them. 

Just because she wasn’t of age yet, that didn’t stop men from grabbing her or manhandling her. Some would pull her onto their laps and kiss her roughly while she made the rounds, collecting empty glasses and the orders to refill them. It was her least favorite night of the week, tomorrow wouldn’t be much better and she was likely to have a few bruises on her thighs and arms after the weekend. The drunker the patrons got the rougher they were with her, but she was thankful all the same, that touching, was all the men were permitted to do with her. 

Bee endured hours of this treatment, going inside herself so she wouldn’t feel the hands that roamed her body or the slimy tongues that sometimes probed her mouth. Forcing her body to feel nothing and be numb had been the one thing her mother had taught her before she died. Saiyan tales were incredibly sensitive and training oneself mentally to block those nerve endings from overruling her movements was crucial in this cruel life. Bee had taken that training a step further by tricking her mind into not feeling what happened to her flesh. It was dangerous though, she could hurt herself and barely notice, so she made an effort to try to evade the grabbing hands instead of living in that meditative mindset. Luckily, she was fast. and could get out of reach from most that did grab for her. That wasn’t saying much though, because everyone that didn’t have both hands full grabbed for her, and that was half the people on the floor. 

Eventually, the hustle and bustle died down and she was able to wash dishes as a means of taking a break from the insanity. Bee enjoyed this part of her job, it gave her time to come out of her headspace and just feel again. She ran her fingers over the dishes as she cleaned them, checking for any particles left behind, and would scrub them away. Marveling in the slippery texture of the soap, and how it contrasted with the coarse, rough grain of the dish scrubby. Feeling the difference between the warm water, and the hot sanitized dishes as she shifted to staking them to cool down. At this stage, she would again feel for anything she might have missed on the smooth surfaces of the dishes, placing the nearly burning dish into the warm water that felt cold by comparison. The entire chore was like a mantra for her, one that returned her awareness to her own body.

Halfway through her task, one of the more popular whores came into the kitchen through the back steps. She was a classic beauty for the settler species of this planet, tall and thin, with flowing golden hair, sharp angular features on her rectangular face, accented by a small but full heart-shaped mouth, and prominent amber eyes. She was wearing a silver shift that was nearly see-through and her long curls and make-up were all a miss from the exertions of her job requirements.

“Ugh, what are you doing in here? I need food and drink in my room, these men are insatiable tonight.” Xeon said, sneering down her nose at the shorter and younger woman. 

“I need her washin’ those damn dishes Xeon!” the cook barked from where he sat enjoying a smoke by the open window. “Take your customers, food and drink yer damn self, ya lazy whore. You’re already down here.” There were pre-arranged trays piled with food, cups, and a bottle already laid out for the women to have quick access.

Bee didn’t engage, she had been feeling unsettled all day and this woman always pushed her buttons. Continuing with her task with an internal monologue of all the different components that she had carefully inserted into her project today. Reliving the steps in her head while she cleaned and washed the dishes.

“How dare you talk like that to me,” Xeon screeched, marching over to the cook, who still hadn’t left his seat. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“A whored-out-slave,” the cook stated firmly.

Xeon gasped, placing her hand over her chest and taking a step back. As if she was offended by the cook’s comment, even though it was the most simple truth. Looking at the woman the cook allowed his gaze to travel her body, his tired, almost bored, expression never changing.

“One daddy probably sold ta pay his debts to that loan shark of a boss we have,” he said, and again the woman made an offended sound, but he just took another drag off his smoke.

“Ho-how did you…?” she stammered.

“Sweetheart, it’s written all over yer face, and in that shitty-ass attitude you got. Daddy liked ta spoil ya. He also liked to pretend he had money, but he didn’t have no luck. Now, his little girl is a whore and I bet he still wound up dead in a gutter somewhere. ‘Cause he would rather give you up, than give up his one love...the tables.” he just glared at the whore before him, not allowing any of his thoughts to show in his features.

Xeon didn’t say anything she just turned around and grabbed one of the prepared trays and went back up the way she had come down.

“Dammit,” spat the cook after he watched her go.

“Did you know her before she came here?” Bee asked, curious how this cook seemed to know so much about a woman that had been a whore for five years.

“Mind yer own business girl,” the cook growled while he pursued his previous position and his cigarette.

“What you said was harsh, but it was also, all true,” Bee said in a monotone, still partially caught up in her task. “I have been here a long time, I know most of the ladies' stories on how they came to be here. I have known all the cooks since I came here too,” she added, finally sparing the man by the window, a glance. “None have ever spoken to any of the women that way, you just might last.”

He was young, in his early to mid-twenties, with broad shoulders and stood over six feet tall. Elio was his name, and he was a native to this planet, or at least partially. His skin was olive toned, and he had the trademark pastel green eyes with vertical slits for pupils, an adaptation for life in the desert. His blaze orange hair crested the top of his head in a spiky fin, and he slicked it back for work, while twin horns of charcoal grey stuck up and out of his temples. Bee only ever saw him at work when he was in his black cook’s pants and white coat, sometimes he took it off, and underneath was a white tank-top. Despite his overall intimidating appearance, and the way he had just treated Xeon, Bee had come to realize he actually had a very sweet and caring demeanor with his staff; often that included herself.

Elio watched the young woman washing dishes for a moment after she turned back to her task. There was something strange about this girl. She rarely spoke when in the tavern or the kitchen, usually to confirm she would follow orders. Then sometimes, like just now, she sounded older than time, certainly not the fifteen she claimed and looked to be. Her blues eyes would harden and a fire would burn in their depths, the tip of her strange, furry tail would bristle as it uncoiled itself from her waist and stood up to twitch. The whole thing sent shivers up his spine and made a cold sweat form on his brow. He wondered what would happen to this girl once the boss decided to break her in, what would happen to the man that tried?

“Eat somethin’ kid,” Elio said as he smothered the cherry from his smoke into the ashtray beside him. “I know you were tryin’ ta eat when I pulled ya inta the fray tonight. A growin’ girl needs ta eat,” he said not realizing how it had affected her, nor did he care. His work wasn’t done and it was past time he got back to it.

Bee froze in her task, she could hear Elio working, prepping more trays for the late-night crowd, and so she peered self-consciously down at her body. Had she changed enough in the past month for this new cook to notice? Or was it just the uniform? It did try to accentuate her curves, but that was why she kept her tail around her waist, to throw off the hourglass figure that heralded her maturity.

“You shouldn’t worry so much ‘bout what them women say, yer lucky to be what ya are,” Elio said to the platter he was filling with the different dishes he had made. “Even if what ya are is a bit creepy,” he added good-naturedly.

“Thanks for the compliment,” Bee deadpanned, rolling her eyes at the man’s odd sense of humor.

“What do they call yer kind anyways?” he asked, looking at the strange girl again.

“My mother said we were something called Saiyans, I know our native language but nothing else about us,” Bee admitted honestly.

Watching the girl for a moment Elio thought about what she had said before returning to his work. “Never heard of ‘em, but imagine that must be hard, not knowin’ the people ya come from.” He said sympathetic to her plight, and they both fell into a companionable silence as they finished working.

* * *

That night she stripped naked before her mirror and tried to see if she had developed anymore. Weighing her breasts in each hand, measuring her hips and then her bottom; trying to remember how they looked and felt the last time she had done this. The trouble was she couldn’t remember when last she had been one hundred percent naked for any extended amount of time. 

Being naked was something she avoided, even when bathing. It was a quicker way to wash her regular undergarments. Only stripping long enough to dry herself off and dress in her long-underwear, her mother’s old flight suit that always fit like a glove. The garment looked like it was child-sized, in its black, shiny, carbonate material, and it was self-cleaning. After which, she would finish washing her clothes, and return to her room to bind her chest again, and throw on an old ratty sweater to hide her body. 

Bee frowned at the girth of her hips when she brought her hands back up to look at the distance for the fifth time. She looked in the mirror again but couldn’t tell if they were wider or her waist was thinner. Either way, the hourglass was becoming obvious. Reaching for her discarded jumpsuit she pulled it on, stepping into each leg and slipping her arms into the sleeves. She popped the collar making sure it was all the way up and instantly she could feel how snug they were around her hips. Cursing Bee tried to zip it up over her chest and it cinched tighter around her buttocks, the zipper not able to complete even half the distance over her bust before the flesh was squished together and spilling out. Panic began to set it as she unzipped the suit and violently thrust it off of her, making it pool on the floor at her feet.

Sitting down hard on her bed she cradled her head in her hands and stared at the floor while tears began to fill her eyes. She had tried so hard to prevent this from happening, but you couldn’t fight nature. Growing up was something she couldn’t control and it terrified her what might happen to her in the coming months. Would her owner notice these changes, or like today, would she be able to avoid him better as time passed, and the season got busy. Even then, come winter they would all be in closer quarters and she couldn’t hide from him forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this, I know I had fun writing it. This is my first attempt at a western, and I hope it gives you those kinda feels.

**Author's Note:**

> Shaiwase... Celestial - Blessings/similar to godspeed.  
> Konjō... Celestial - The name of Vegeta's soul, means guts and bravery.  
> Umyeni... Saiyan - My husband  
> Kakumei… Celestial - The name of Bulma's soul, means intelligence and wisdom.  
> Umfazi… Saiyan - My wife  
> Engishade naye, ongunaphakade… Saiyan - My Mate, Eternal


End file.
